


City Girl

by L0chn3ss



Series: Soul Eater Rarepair Day [11]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - Country Life, City/Country, F/M, Farm/Country Life, Fish out of Water, Friendship/Love, Implied Relationships, New Family, Romantic Friendship, Soul is a lost cow, Texas Inspired, Wes has an OC husband
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26113765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L0chn3ss/pseuds/L0chn3ss
Summary: Soul trades his city life for country life. He moves in with his recently married brother but gets lost almost immediately in the vast fields. Luckily for him, the country girl next door Patty is also from the city.
Relationships: Soul Eater Evans & Patty Thompson, Soul Eater Evans/Patty Thompson
Series: Soul Eater Rarepair Day [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898986
Kudos: 2





	City Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Soul Eater Rare Pair Day/Monthly  
> August 2020  
> Prompt: Honey

Patty was a city girl through and through. She didn’t show it often, especially when she had mud up to her knees and straw hidden in her already bright blonde hair, but there were rarely moments when Soul questions where Patty was really from. Though she played the country bumpkin persona well, her New York style seeped through often.

Growing up in Queens— not the good part of Queens— Patty learned to talk quick and think fast. As a child, she had no issues with seizing what she wanted and when she wanted. As a young adult though, she knew how to bargain and play the system well. She’s grown more patient and cunning than a typical simple farm girl. Even an hour away from the nearest big city, months from when he last visited Manhattan, Soul was always reminded of his home when he’s with her.

Early fall, somehow, when Soul moved into his brother’s spare bedroom in the farm closest to her, he lost himself in a field until she found him a couple hours later into the evening. It was their first meeting, and she could already tell that he wasn’t from around town. Patty deposited him at Wes’s door and asked rather unabashedly, “This one of yours?” as if Soul were a lost cow.

Wes was too dumbfounded to reply, but his new husband briefly looked over Wes’s shoulder to say “That is.” He herded Soul into the house, leaving Patty and Wes at the front with all the awkwardness that came after. The next day, Soul was instructed to bring over bags of produce to thank their neighbor for finding him. The only problem with that was that he came back with an equal amount— if not more— of other goods from their farm thanks to Patty’s slick talking and free running mouth.

The two homes treated Soul like a pack mule until the following next week— a.k.a. when Soul (and the bag) finally snapped and a handful of apples went tumbling down the road. Patty helped him carry the produce after that and made truce with Oakley, Soul’s brother-in-law. Any debts were thereby repaid, on the condition that the Thompson household did not try to return the 3 dozen eggplants from the other day. The Evans-Beckett family refused to grill any more for the season.

However, Oakley asked Patty for one more favor— to show his new in-law around since it’d been two weeks since Soul came, yet he still hadn’t ventured off the boundary of their land. Soul blushed heavily; he had no excuse for himself. He supposed that he was still as unadventurous as he used to be, even though he promised himself that he would change when he left home.

She took just one look at Soul and asked Oakley, “You reckon he can last out here?”

Oakley shrugged, “Can’t imagine he can’t under yer wing, ey?”

To that, Patty laughed, and she took Soul by the hand to introduce him to his family’s own goats. “You’ve got a lot to catch up on, city boy.”

At first, Soul was being sensitive; he didn’t like being called that, much less by a girl he didn’t know. It got worse when he did get to know her. The nickname seemed too affectionate, too condescending to be towards someone who wanted to be her equal. Patty had the upper hand in a lot of things around the barn, perhaps even more so when she used to live in the city. He didn’t want to be a liability for too long.

* * *

One afternoon in the orchard, Patty swung her legs over the side of the branch, crunching on an apple that she deemed to be worthy. Soul was still on the ground, careful to not get his boots too muddy. He had his arms crossed and his lips set, unwilling to climb up like how she showed him.

Patty grinned in her signature carefree way. “You a chicken?”

“Don’t call me that,” he said rather harshly to her joke. He remembered often that she was a city girl, too, even when other townsfolk forgot.

Patty didn’t hesitate to respond though, as always. “Then prove ya ain’t,” she said in her most mischievous tone.

Soul knew that he couldn’t, at least by her standards. But, he hoped that soon, she could see him as a man and not as the city boy from the far away world that she loathed so much. The first step (maybe) was to go against her commands.

He grumbled something unintelligible, something she couldn't quite hear, and he turned to stomp away— again, minding his boots. Patty called after him until he was too far away. Then, once she caught up, she ran at him in a tackle hug.

She said, “Come’er, city boy,” laughing and unbothered still. “You mad at me?”

He was, and then slowly, he was not. Her cheerfulness could melt his emotions away and leave him feeling like a stranger to himself. Soul turned away from her, attempting to shove her off half-heartedly, and said, “I’m not.”

“But ‘cha are!” she laughed, hugging him tighter around his waist.

In that moment, it was clear that Soul was much taller than her, but she was much stronger. He was lean where she was sturdy, and he was serious when she was cheerful. She made up what he lacked, but maybe that wasn’t bad. However, he didn’t want to be just a neighbor who happened to come from NYC like she. He wasn’t just a dumb city boy who needed watching over.

Soul repeated that he was not mad, and by the second time around, it was the truth. However, he was feeling an odd way after all, one that made him awkward and her very determined to chase it away.

* * *

Later, after surviving winter, the wildflowers were blooming again in the fields. They stayed silent against the still air but shifted slightly when Soul walked by. He followed Patty to a little area away from her family’s barn where they kept a few bee hives, far enough from the other animals but a walkable distance.

She only warned Soul to not get any closer when he became visibly nervous around the bees; he heeded her warning gratefully. Patty, however, completely unbothered, approached one of the man made hives gently. On TV shows and movies, beekeepers always wore thick suits and a round face veil; that girl only had her overalls and rubber boots. She slowly opened the hive and scooped out a clump of bees with her bare hands, face relaxed and movements predictable.

From a distance, Soul saw that she was talking to them as she went. Maybe he was mistaken, but she seemed like a different person at that moment. He thought that even someone abundantly loud and naturally precarious could make those sort of soft expressions.

Eventually, Patty came back with her fingers dripping in honey. She held up the piece of honeycomb to his face and said gleefully, “Have ya ever had it fresh?”

He squinted at it, “Is it safe to eat?”

“Sure is!” she laughed, ready to take a bite herself.

“Anything you think is ‘safe’ makes me cautious.”

Patty hummed. “Like? I wouldn’t put you in danger.”

“You didn’t wear gloves when handling bees, though,” Soul said. His worry came out in strange ways, but obvious.

“You can accidentally squish them if ya do. Kinda nice to feel them, builds the trust between ya, yeah?” She spoke in a way that made it seem like common knowledge. “Now, you gonna taste?”

Soul looked at the mess in her hands. It was new to see the honey still contained in the combs; the only honey that he’d ever had came out of squeeze bottles or farmer’s market jars. He briefly remembered Wes’s visit home two years prior— when he first got engaged. Soul didn’t try honeycomb when Wes brought some to him, but apparently, it was a treat to eat it that way.

He reached out to take what Patty offered him anyway. She already expected his reaction to be positive, even though he hadn’t truly accepted it yet. As she licks her fingers, he appraised the yellow mass that became his. He didn’t like how the honey sticks to him immediately and how questionable things floated in small corners, but when he chews into the wax, he thinks it’s delicious in unfamiliar ways.

* * *

During a summer storm, Soul went missing during the worst of times. He was supposed to be checking on the animals in the Evans-Beckett’s barn, but he never made it back before the wind and rain rolled in. Oakley went out to see what kept Soul for so long, only to return alone with a grim line set on his face.

Patty, who had been visiting (as she did often), stood up abruptly from the breakfast table as quickly as Wes. They both jumped to the most terrible of conclusions, but Oakley merely waited for them to quiet down.

Ever calm and steady, he put his hand over his husband’s and said, “The kid will be back.” He didn’t have to address the storm or the dangers outside to convey his message. Soul would be ok, and the rest of them would wait for his return.

Wes had taken it harder than Patty, but they both understood. If they all chased Soul, it would do more harm than good in those weather conditions. They understood, but it was hard to sit still. Wes made himself busy instead while Patty planted herself in front of the radio, stone faced and listening.

Oakley gave her a knitted blanket, but she didn’t respond to him. She was only concentrating on the forecast and urgent warnings that spilled from the machine. He’d seen Patty so serious only a few times before— one time when he married her sister Liz, and once more when he divorced her. Both times, Patty expressed maturity beyond her age, knowingly that the path to happiness was fluid.

The two sisters were distant relatives of the Thompsons from next door, the grandchildren of Oakley’s neighbor’s mom’s brother— second cousins once removed, maybe. They came to the farm as young teens almost eight years ago, wild and grave. 

But the seriousness didn’t suit her.

When Soul knocked on the front door under an hour later, it felt like a lifetime. He was soaked to the bone and his hair stood up more wildly than how he normally styled it. Wes came to his side immediately, but when Soul stepped aside, a small calf emerged from behind him. Oakley threw another blanket over it and led it inside after Soul, sighing out a year of his life from relief for both creatures’ safety.

Patty was far less forgiving. She took one look at Soul, and then the calf, and then back at Soul. Her rage was clear as day and stormy as the rain outside.

Soul explained first before she even asked. “He wasn’t in the barn, so I went looking.”

She didn’t let him finish nor did she cut corners. “Are you dumb?”

He winced, “I’m fine, though.” He made it back safely, so he thought it didn’t matter. “The baby cow is fine, and I’m fine.”

It did little to soothe Patty, who got angrier by the second. “That ain’t the issue, Soul,” she said lowly. She almost never called him by his name, only ever ‘city boy’ or other nicknames. To him, it was jarring.

“It would’ve been a bigger issue if we lost him.”

Oakley watched the two carefully while Wes awkwardly patted the calf dry. The former began, “Pat, he’s back.”

Ignoring him, Patty glared to Soul, “And what if you got lost, too? Then we’d have two.”

“Then, you’ll just have to find me again,” he said plainly. At her silence, he added in good humor, “Like how you led me back here like a lost cow before.”

He was cheerful when she was serious, and that melted her unsettled feelings away. Patty finally laughed at how ridiculous Soul could be and she hugged him despite his wet clothes.

“Dumbass. Spoken like a true country idiot, ey?”

The way she held him made his blood run to his face. She had her arms tight around his ribs and her face dug into his chest. He didn’t respond quickly enough to hug her back, but Oakley swooped in to guide Soul to the bath once Patty released him.

* * *

Soul’s first harvest and his second autumn came fast. He forgot to respond to his pestering parents about a visit to Manhattan, but Wes told him to send them boxes of vegetables before it was too late. It was a good idea because Soul couldn’t stomach another eggplant for the season. Even the Thompson household started to return bags that Wes snuck onto their porch.

Patty came by in the afternoon clutching plenty of cucumbers, hoping for some room in Soul’s already overweight box. His stomach lunged at the sight of her produce and he grudgingly made more space for it.

“Get another box.” She eyed his work. “One for each parent.”

“Good idea,” Soul agreed.

After he taped the first box shut, Patty sharpied on the address. He saw her following his paper carefully as reference up until she reached the city and zip code portion. She knew the last part by heart, like a city girl raised in the area. She didn’t have to think twice about the numbers and it was like the one thing that was unquestioned out of everything else she wrote.

When she caught Soul staring, Patty snorted, “What?”

“Dunno,” Soul said. “Just thought that you are definitely a city girl.”


End file.
